


Invisible Touch

by Omorka



Category: The Monkees (TV)
Genre: Foursome - M/M/M/M, Haunted Houses, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 02:27:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/934110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omorka/pseuds/Omorka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The four Monkees are sharing a bed at a haunted mansion.  Hilarity ensues, for sufficiently dirty values of hilarity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Invisible Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Written for dirtymonkeesfics on Tumblr, for the prompt "The Monkees are in bed together at a haunted mansion…" TV characters, not RPF. Pure PWP; distinct potential for childhood-ruining.

The four Monkees were in bed together in a haunted mansion. The window of their bedroom looked out into a grey field of deep fog; if the moon shone out there somewhere, her face was hidden by clouds.

“It could be worse,” Micky observed as he tugged the patchwork quilt to his chin. “It could be raining.”

“You hush,” Mike scolded. “That’s the last thing we need, is a thunderstorm.” He yawned. “Now, switch off the lamp so we can sleep.”

Micky shrugged and turned the knob on the bronze base of the antique lamp. The room was plunged into near-perfect darkness.

“Wow, this is creepy,” Davy whispered.

Mike stirred. “What is?” he grumbled.

“How dark it is,” Micky offered. “The only time it ever gets this dark in L.A. is when an earthquake knocks out the power lines.”

“Manchester, either,” Davy agreed.

“There are empty suits of armor up and down the halls, and you guys think the _dark_ is creepy?” Mike rolled over with his back to Davy and shut his eyes.

A soft giggle tickled Peter’s ear. He sat up and looked on either side; that was too high-pitched to have been Davy. “Micky, what’s so funny?” he asked.

“I didn’t say anything,” Micky protested. “Peter, are you playing with my ear?”

“No,” Peter whispered back. “Someone giggled at -” He was cut short as a pair of cold fingers tweaked his left nipple; they both hardened under his pajamas. “Davy? Was that you?”

Davy squirmed in place. “Someone’s licking my toes,” he said. “Is there a dog in here?”

“Y’all need to stop that,” Mike chided. “There’s no one in here but us - yow!”

“Yow?” Micky repeated, swatting at something tickling his thighs.

“There’s - uh - um,” Mike said, gesturing vaguely at his groin.

Davy snatched the covers away as Micky dove for the lamp. The light blinded them for a moment; when their vision cleared, they were alone in the bed.

“That’s strange,” Peter commented.

Micky was staring at Peter’s lap. “That’s what you’ve been hiding in those tight pants?” he asked, a note of awe in his voice.

“What?” Peter glanced down; the fly of his orange pajamas had come unbuttoned, and his dick was poking though, proud and erect.

Davy’s eyes widened. “That _is_ impressive,” he said, then turned to his other side. “So is that,” he noted, looking at the tent Mike’s erection was making out of his nightshirt.

Micky nodded. “Honestly, I’m starting to feel inadequate over here.”

Davy’s mouth quirked into a grin. “I’ll be the judge of that. Show it off, Mick.”

“What? Are you serious?” Micky gaped at Davy.

“Well,” Mike noted, rolling up the cloth of his nightshirt, “it only seems fair that we should all get the chance to compare. Seeing as how Peter and I didn’t exactly get a choice, yeah, Micky, let’s see it.”

“You gotta be kidding me,” Micky groaned, but he kicked off his pajama pants and discovered he was halfway to hard himself. He reached down to coax his penis to fully erect, only to have Peter stop him.

“Can I touch it, Micky?” Peter’s eyes were liquid in the low light.

“Well, sure,” Micky started, but whatever the rest of the thought was, the feel of Peter’s lightly calloused fingers closing on him chased it from his head.

Mike nodded. “Not bad yourself,” he noted.

“I’m liking the girth on his,” Davy added. “Not as impressive in the length department, but it’ll do the job up right.”

Micky gasped as Peter stroked him from root to tip. “Okay, Davy,” he managed between moans, “let’s see what you’ve got.”

Davy shrugged and shucked his nightshirt. “Not as impressive as these two,” he said, jerking his thumbs at Mike and Peter.

Mike reached over and ran his hand down Davy’s cock from the head to his balls, shoving the foreskin down, then back up to the soft spot just beneath the head. “Well, I don’t know about that,” he chuckled. “I mean, yeah, in total length not so much, but proportionally it works.”

“If yours was much bigger, it’d look silly on your frame,” Peter noted.

“Fair enough,” Davy said, spreading his hands, “but even proportionally, I think Mike wins this one.”

“It’s not a competition,” Micky said, his eyes rolling back as Peter clasped a second hand onto his erection. “It’s an exhibition - oh, god, Pete, do that again.”

“Actually,” Peter whispered, “I’d like to taste you, Micky. Can I?”

“Yes, please!” Micky nearly shouted, then cracked his eyes open. “Um, that is, if you guys are okay with it?”

Davy and Mike exchanged a glance.

“Never really thought about it before,” Mike admitted.

“I have,” Davy said, grinning. “Fine by me, guys.”

“Go ahead,” Mike said. On the one hand, he didn’t usually think about his bandmates in that way. On the other hand, the noises Micky was making were really turning him on.

Micky laid back, his hair splayed across the pillow, and groaned from deep in his chest as Peter lowered his mouth onto him. The bassist’s tongue played around the ridge of his glans, then slid down the shaft as Peter’s lips closed.

“Oh, god, yeah,” Micky sighed, and buried his hands in Peter’s silky blond hair.

Davy slid an arm around Mike’s shoulder. “Don’t they look good?” he asked, leaning against the tall Texan.

“Good enough to eat,” Mike agreed.

Micky drew a sharp breath in through his teeth, then exhaled slowly. “Davy, c’mere,” he sighed.

Davy crawled over. “You need something, Micky?”

Micky forced his eyes open. “Your cock,” he said, eyes flashing. Peter moaned sweetly around Micky’s dick, and Micky shuddered.

Davy thought about it for a moment. “Yeah. All right. Where do you want me?”

Micky reluctantly took his hands from Peter’s head and took Davy’s hips instead. “Right here,” he said, guiding him over until Davy was leaning over him with his feet dangling off the bed. Micky turned his head and swallowed Davy’s erection in one gulp, burying his nose in his soft, wispy pubes.

Davy yelped, then moaned. “Oh, that’s great, that is. Keep it up, Micky.” His eyelids fluttered.

Mike watched his bandmates for a few minutes as Peter’s head bobbed and Micky’s hands played across Davy’s chest and thighs. “Y’all look mighty tasty like that,” he admitted, stroking his own cock slowly.

Peter lifted his head from Micky’s groin. “Come play?” he asked, and the others murmured their assent.

“Ain’t never done it before,” Mike admitted, his eyes falling.

“Neither have I,” Davy admitted. “I mean, the sucking part, not the being sucked - god, Micky, where’d you learn to do this?”

“West Hollywood,” Micky answered before returning his attentions to Davy’s dick and balls.

“I knew you had a talented throat,” Davy murmured as his eyes closed involuntarily, “but never like this.”

Mike slid closer to Peter. “Let me guess,” he said as he ran a hand between Peter’s thighs. “A few wild nights in the Village?”

Peter slid a hand over Micky’s erection and lifted his head. “Actually,” he admitted, “I’ve never done this with a guy either.” He gave Micky a sidelong glance as the drummer wriggled in pleasure. “But I’ve wanted to for a while.”

Mike turned himself so his legs ran alongside the headboard and his head was between Peter’s knees. “I don’t wanna choke you,” he said, looking back at Davy. “I’ve had a couple of chicks have trouble with it.”

“Don’t worry, I’m - ah! - I’m not even going to try to duplicate what Micky’s doing back there on you,” Davy replied, grinning. “But I think there are a few tricks from my areas of expertise that might translate.” He scooted closer to Mike and began lapping at the head of his cock in short, strong strokes as one hand curled around the shaft and pumped.

Mike’s eyes widened. “Nothing wrong with that,” he gasped. “You keep right on doing that, short stuff.”

“I plan on it,” Davy replied, grinning, as he gave him a long, twirling ice-cream-cone lick.

Mike lowered his head. “If I do something wrong, Pete, let me know,” he whispered as he closed his mouth around Peter’s erection and started sucking.

Micky was moaning and groaning around Davy’s cock, now, his hips bucking against Peter’s lips as his fingers toyed with Davy’s nipples, his balls, his ass. Peter kept one hand pressed against Micky’s hips and slid the other one down to stroke his thighs. Davy curled one hand tight around the base of Mike’s shaft and held onto his legs with the other. Mike wasn’t sure what to do with his hands, so he wrapped one arm around Peter’s thigh and cupped his balls with the other. The musk of Peter’s body was warm and sweet, and the tremors in his thighs as Mike wrapped his lips around Peter’s dick were strangely exciting.

The four of them moaned and swayed together, a ring of shared pleasure crisscrossing the bed. Their moans and sighs made a strange sort of harmony, different from their usual music but rhythmic and wonderful all the same.

Davy came first. Bucking his hips against Micky’s face, he snapped his head back from Mike’s cock and groaned as if he were being torn in two. Micky’s tongue slid around his dick, and the muscles of his mouth and throat worked around him, milking every drop of his orgasm from him.

He breathed heavily for a moment, still working Mike’s cock with his hands, as he recovered. “Thanks, Mick,” he breathed, and pressed his warm, wet lips to Mike’s shaft again.

“Anytime, Davy. Oh, god, Peter, that’s great, that’s fantastic, oh, god, do you wanna see me come, I’m gonna come for you, Peter, I swear, you’re wonderful, I’m so close . . .” A torrent of words poured out of Micky’s mouth, as if they’d been stuck there and Davy’s orgasm had shaken them loose. Peter grinned against him and redoubled his efforts, and in no more than a couple of minutes, Micky was fountaining into Peter’s eager mouth.

He went limp for a few seconds, overwhelmed with the sensations Peter was still giving him and he sounds of his bandmates still playing each other like fine instruments. Slowly, he pried his eyes open and crawled to the center of the bed. His hands danced out, stroking Davy’s shoulder, Mike’s stomach, Peter’s chest. “So beautiful,” he crooned, “so gorgeous, look at you guys, I’ve never seen anything so gorgeous.”

Peter looked over at him, then down the length of his torso at Mike. “You too,” he grunted. “Micky, you and Davy coming like that are two of the prettiest things I’ve ever seen.”

Mike groaned. Micky leaned in for a closer view of his face. “Wow, Davy,” he said, smiling, “you’ve got Mike pretty close, too.”

Davy leaned back. “You wanna help?” he asked, his hands busily stroking. “There’s probably room enough for two on this thing.”

“Oh, yeah,” Micky agreed, diving across the bed and curling up behind Mike. His tongue darted out, meeting Davy’s as they licked and sucked their way up and down Mike’s erection.

Mike groaned around Peter’s cock; his legs twitched as fire started to build at the base of his spine.

Peter shifted position slightly, now that he didn’t have Micky’s dick to worry about, and cooed, “Mike, you gonna come for us?” A finger slid behind Mike’s ear, tucking back a stray lock of hair and then tugging gently on the lobe. “I wanna see you come, too. You guys are giving off such awesome vibes, I could get high just watching you.”

Mike’s hands clenched on Peter’s legs; his breath got short and sharp. Micky giggled lightly and squeezed Mike’s ass as he played his tongue down the lower half of his shaft, and Davy did the same to Mike’s balls. Mike whipped his head back, afraid he’d bite down by mistake, groaned, and hissed as his whole body tensed and pulsed. Davy jerked back and laughed as Mike’s jism hit him square in the face; Micky ducked down and sucked the last few pulses out of Mike’s cock, then leaned back up and licked Davy’s face clean.

“That tickles,” Davy laughed as Micky lapped up the last traces of Mike’s semen. “You done yet?”

Micky leaned back to take a better look. “I think so,” he said, cocking his head. “You better check to see if there’s any in your hair, though; man, Mike, that was a hell of a load.”

Mike leaned against Peter’s thigh and forced himself to breathe normally. “Sure was, shotgun,” he sighed. “Feels like it was half my brains. You two do good work.”

“Glad to be of service,” Davy laughed.

Micky crawled back over Mike and curled up next to Peter. “Okay, Big Pete,” he whispered as Mike took a deep breath and slid his mouth around Peter’s cock again, “your turn.”

Davy slid over and ran his hands along Peter’s chest, gently pinching the nipples and tangling his fingers in the thatch of Peter’s chest hair. “This was a good idea you had, Peter,” he crooned.

Micky slipped his fingers into Peter’s hair again. One finger traced the line of Peter’s jaw and then ran along his bottom lip. “I’m loving your vibes, too,” Micky whispered. “Let me hear you, Peter.”

Peter sighed. “I’m pretty close,” he told Micky, his eyes dark. “Oh, wow, do that again, Mike.”

Mike repeated the twirl he’d just done with his tongue. “That?” he asked around Peter’s erection.

“Yeah,” Peter moaned, his hips starting to buck and sway.

Davy laughed. “Look at that, Micky. You recognize that?”

“I sure do,” Micky giggled. “That’s what you do when you’re playing, Peter. You make love to your music, don’t you?”

Peter’s eyes had rolled back in his head, but he managed to squeeze out, “ _Our_ music,” before dissolving into incoherent groans.

Mike ducked his head down, his cheeks hollow with the suction he was putting on Peter, then up again. “Micky, get down here,” he growled at the top of a stroke.

Micky slithered down Peter’s length. “Yeah, Mike?”

Mike held up one finger. Micky shrugged, and cupped his hands around Peter’s ass cheeks, squeezing in time with the frantic bobbing of Mike’s head.

Peter’s hips stuttered into double-time. “Oh, god,” he grunted, and then let out a single, sharp grunt and a hiss as his hips stilled.

Mike yanked his head back. “Taste him,” he ordered, and Micky obeyed, swallowing Peter’s orgasm like he had Davy’s and most of Mike’s, and humming happily as he did. Mike watched Micky’s throat muscles working, and felt his own cock twitch again.

Davy watched Peter as his features went from ecstasy to profound relaxation. “Well,” he laughed, tousling Micky’s hair, which was starting to curl from the heat of their exertions, “That was a bit of all right, there.”

Mike sat up and looked at each of his bandmates in turn. “Sure was,” he said, surprised at the fact.

Micky grinned and reached for Davy, pulling him towards him. “You know,” he murmured, “I’ve seen so many girls get this I’ve stopped being jealous, but -”

Davy chuckled and leaned in, lips parted slightly. Mike watched as Davy and Micky exchanged a kiss that would have melted any of Davy’s usual girls.

As they parted, Davy laid a finger on Micky’s lips. “You taste like - all of us,” he giggled.

“Really?” Peter had recovered enough to sit up; he tugged on Micky’s shoulder and leaned in to kiss him, too. Mike noted that this one was less romantic and more about need; there was something raw about the way Peter shoved his tongue in Micky’s mouth, and Micky keened for more.

He turned to Davy. “So, you’re really that good a kisser.”

“I’d better be,” Davy snorted. “I’ve had tons of practice.”

Micky broke the kiss with Peter to add, “He really is good, Mike,” before returning his attention to Peter’s lips.

Davy blushed just a bit. “Care to sample the wares?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Mike admitted, as he tilted Davy’s chin up. There was a moment where they both were trying to control the kiss as their tongues met, but Davy gracefully let Mike lead, and then the question of control melted away as their lips slid against each other.

Mike took a deep breath as Davy sat back on his heels. “Nope, you’re right, Mick,” he agreed. “He’s pretty damn good.”

Peter let go of the half-embrace he’d still been holding Micky with. “Oh, I wanna try!” he said, bouncing like a puppy.

“What do you know? Guess you don’t have to be hung like a horse to be in high demand,” Davy joked, but he turned to Peter and faced him seriously. Peter put his arms around him more gently than he had Micky, and when their mouths met, it was more sweet than passionate. Mike found himself wanting to say “awww,” but he caught himself in time.

“Awww,” Micky crooned in his ear. “Aren’t they adorable?”

“Sure are.” Mike considered the two of them as they parted. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat. “Hey, Pete,” he said, trying to sound jocular, “How’s about a little sugar over here?”

“After that blowjob?” Peter smiled, a dazzling grin from ear to ear. “Sure!” He flung himself eagerly into Mike’s arms, and his lips met Mike’s in a sloppy mess, thick with the same hunger he’d poured into Micky’s. Mike felt Peter’s dick against his, wet and soft, and again felt desire prickling at the base of his spine.

Davy and Micky watched closely. “I’d say that whatever they don’t have in technique, they’re making up in enthusiasm,” Davy observed.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with their technique, either,” Micky panted. He was nearly erect again; watching his best friends kissing was almost better than getting kissed.

Davy laughed. “How did you recover that fast?”

Micky’s grin took on a wicked edge. “Remind me to tell you about the time I tried to see how many times in a row I could masturbate.”

Peter leaned back from the kiss with Mike and settled his head on the guitarist’s shoulder. “What happened?” he asked.

“I stopped after the fifth one because my hands were starting to blister,” Micky finished, still grinning.

“Oh, for cryin’ out loud,” Mike grumbled. “When you pull a stunt like that, at least use baby oil or something.”

“I figured that out afterwards,” Micky admitted. His eyes sparkled as he looked at Mike.

Mike smiled through his scowl. “Bet you want some sugar, too, huh?”

“Yay!” Micky dove into his arms as Peter shifted out of the way. If Davy’s kiss had spoken of affection and Peter’s of need, then Micky’s was all about desire, full of promises and yearnings. His skin practically crackled with sexual energy.

Mike finally broke the kiss and looked down. “Mick,” he drawled, “I think you’re gonna have to give the rest of us the chance to sleep on it before we’re up for round two.”

“Oh,” Micky said, disappointed. He glanced at Peter and Davy, who nodded; Peter at least had the grace to look sad. 

Davy yawned. “Come on, lads,” he mumbled, “we can at least give him a bit of a cuddle while we recharge.”

They shuffled so that Micky was between Davy and Peter, with Mike spooned against Peter and his arm across the pillows so he could toy with Davy’s hair. Peter fell asleep almost before Mike and Davy pulled the covers back up and tucked them in. Davy followed shortly. Mike’s gentle snoring ruffled Peter’s hair, but he only snuggled closer to Micky.

“As long as we get a round two,” Micky breathed, and laid his cheek against the top of Peter’s head. After a few long minutes, he followed them into sleep.

A ghostly voice giggled. Cold, insubstantial fingers brushed their cheeks, but not quite long enough to wake them, as their spectral voyeuse winked into visibility for a moment and turned out the light.


End file.
